Journey to the Forgotten Island

Chapter 32 - Topple

It was a bright morning with blue skies and a low, pale sun, when the villagers left their homes. The leaves were beginning to fall from trees. The apples and pears piled up on the side of paths, rotting with a sickly-sweet stench, as flies and wasps feasted on the browning fruit. The cold breeze had returned to the island. The long quiet summer afternoons were gone. The villagers, in their bright woollen tunics, carried sacks over their shoulders, dragged chests along the ground as they walked through the village, escorted by Xipilli's men.

Toma watched on horseback from a copse of oak trees. Dini had warned him not to go. Then he had advised him to take the carriage for protection if he insisted on going. But Toma had refused. He was Governor but he was also still the man who, as Captain, had settled the island and discovered the village. He had to see the world that his decisions created. The armour weighed heavy on his shoulders. It was rare for Duro soldiers to wear metal armour, not only because of the shortages but because the Duro warring style did not require it. But Ami and Dini had forced Toma into his metal armour so that if a villager or spy were to try to kill him, he would have a chance of survival.

Perhaps he had wanted to be attacked, he thought. If a villager or a spy attacked him, it would be easier to see them as enemies. But on this cold and bright morning, as Toma watched the procession, it seemed the villagers were leaving without resistance. Xipilli's men were armed but had been instructed to be joyful – to convince the villagers that they were leaving their village for a better place. He heard the uplifting tones of the soldiers' encouraging speeches, beckoning the villagers to follow their new, improved destiny.

But Toma had seen the temporary village that had been built in the previous ten days. It looked like little more than an army camp. The houses were wooden. Some made of sticks and branches rather than good timber. There had been such a rush to build enough houses for the whole village that some did not have floors and seemed like primitive huts rather than homes. The new village was nothing like the grand stone round houses, many with several floors. There were no roads or paths like the clean stone pathing that meandered through Ntsiag. But the villagers had been promised that things would get better. And Toma hoped they would.

'Look! One of the ogres is fighting!' a soldier called.

While Toma was hidden in the trees, a dozen cavalrymen and double that in infantry watched, in formation, from the edge of the burnt forest. They were under strict orders not to intervene unless Xipilli's men were unable to handle any resistance.

Toma could not see what the soldier had seen, so he squeezed his horse and moved through the trees until he could see fight. Three villagers were trying to return to their home and one of Xipilli's men was blocking the entrance and pointing in the direction of the other villagers who walked eastward. Toma slowly edged closer to see better as a crowd began to form.

There were now five of Xipilli's men and fifteen villagers in the tussle. There was shouting and pushing. It was hard to tell the villagers and Xipilli's men apart as they wore the same clothes. The only difference was that Xipilli's men carried bronze shields and long oak staffs. Toma had forbidden the use of swords for the eviction, so the men were forced to use these long wooden sticks instead.

Toma was now only a moment's ride from the fight, having approached slowly from the forest. He saw a villager grab for the staff of one of the guards. The villager, a tall, lean, olive-skinned man with long hair, wrestled the staff from the guard while another villager managed to grab the shield. Suddenly, the villagers saw their strength and crowded round the five guards, grabbing for their weapons. The tall man gave his staff to a short, sturdy woman with ebony skin and loose curls. The short woman swung the staff hard and knocked a guard in the shoulder. The guard roared in agony just as the tall man rushed him and stole his staff. Now, the three remaining armed guards swung their staffs in a fevered panic to keep the villagers at bay as the crowd tightened in.